No One Knows
by Iani Ancilla
Summary: COMPLETE! Sverus is deeply attracted to one Harry Potter. Is the feeling mutual?


**AUTHOR**: Iani Ancilla (chaosnomiko@hotmail.com) 

**TITLE**: No One Knows

**PAIRING**: SS/HP. It's not as simple as that, but telling more would spoil it.

**WARNINGS**: m/m slash, angst, characters death. It's a dark fic, don't read if you're depressed. Oh, and it's terribly smut-less, so if you're looking for a PWP, sorry!

**DISCLAIMER**: I love all you people, but do you really think that if I were JKR I'd be here writing fic? Nope, I'd be writing book 6, and putting some damn slash in it, instead of just incredible subtext like there was in book 5. 

**RATING**: PG-13, but alas, not for smut. Just for darkness.

**SPOILERS**: nothing much, I think. 

**THANKS**: Everybody repeat with me: "Thank you Joie, you made this fanfic lots better than it was and you fixed the stupid stupid author's mistakes with canon, which probably wouldn't happen, if she just re-read the books instead of stuffing her brains with fanfics!", really, Joie, thanks thanks thanks for your help with beta-reding. To Paola, who was the first person to ever hear of this plotbunny, and who told me that if I ever wrote anything this dark she'd hit me. So, please, don't tell her I've written it ^^;;   To Pol, the second person to hear about it, and who told me the very same thing. Alas… she already knows I've written it so… *ducks and hides behind her Sevviekins*

Iani Ancilla

**No One Knows**

"That will be fifteen points from Gryffindor, Longbottom, for your utter incompetence. I must admit that you still manage to astound me with your imbecility, even after seven years of that particularly morbid brand of torture called teaching you. Class is dismissed."

Severus Snape sneered coldly at the hiccoughing boy in front of him, then he spun around and stalked to his own cauldron, checking on the perfect concoction that was simmering inside it. He tried his best not too look at the brats filing hastily away from his dungeons, but he couldn't resist lifting his eyes to gaze at the slender, black-haired, marvel who happened to be one of his students, as the young man passed by him to get to the door. No one noticed him looking, but that didn't stop him from cursing his weakness as he snarled the spell to close and lock the classroom, after the last lingering Slytherin had left. He quickly lowered the fire under the potion he was brewing for the Infirmary, and sat down tiredly at his desk, his chin propped up on his hands, a lost look on his face.

 How could he be this spineless, this_ pathetic_? He'd been a spy for years, a master at hiding whatever feelings he might have been harbouring in his heart. Then why was it so difficult now? Why did it have to be so damn impossible to keep his… he didn't even know _what_ it was, for Merlin's sake! Why was it so hard to keep his feelings to himself? 

Sighing, he gave up looking for answers to the question that had been tormenting him for the past several months. He might not know _why_, but the facts were there, and it was plain for him to see that he wouldn't be able to go on like this for much longer. He was attracted to Harry Potter, a boy twenty-five years his junior, one of his students, a Gryffindor, and the son of a man he'd hated… . he was incredibly attracted to him, and he wouldn't be able to hide it for much longer.

_'Good thing he's leaving in a month, then'_ he reflected. And if he were to be fair it was. He was Severus Snape though, and he might be many things, but fair wasn't one of them, especially when it came to a certain green-eyed Gryffindor. He didn't even know _what_ to feel about the Boy-Who-Lived. One part of him was overjoyed that he'd be delivered from such temptation in just a  few weeks; the rest of him mourned the prospect of a life without even the consolation of having him near, of seeing him every day. The boy evoked so many conflicting emotions in him… .He hated the boy's cheek, but he loved how spontaneous that made him; he was constantly making fun of him for his trusting nature, but he'd have given anything to be at the receiving end of such trust; he respected the younger man's courage, the bravery which had been the main cause of the Dark Lord's demise, and yet it infuriated him, that the foolish brat could carelessly endanger himself without sparing a thought for those who cared about him. '_And I do care about him, damn it.'_

Staring wistfully at the desk Potter and his friends had occupied during the last lesson, he came to the painful conclusion that it was for the best that the boy was leaving. Severus knew perfectly well he'd never have a chance with the object of his desire. He didn't plan of ever getting down on one knee in front Potter and making a fool of himself, but seeing the boy everyday and not being able to do anything about it was eating away at him. At least, with him gone, he wouldn't risk letting his feelings show. He wouldn't fear every detention alone with Potter, he wouldn't have to beg Albus to stop the Occlumency lessons, using his supposed dislike of the brat as an excuse… Yes, life was definitely going to improve once Potter had graduated from Hogwarts.

Then why did the simple thought make him feel so empty inside?

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His brooding over Harry Potter had made him late for dinner. Silent as always, he was making his way to the Great Hall, when raised voices from a side corridor attracted his attention. 

He immediately recognized one of them. Weasley.

That was good… he could distract himself from his bleak thoughts and hand out some detention slips all at once. Smirking to himself, he approached the corner and put on his most forbidding expression… and stopped dead in his tracks. The other voice, the one which hadn't been loud enough for him to recognize at once, was undoubtedly Harry's. He couldn't give a detention just to Weasley, and he surely didn't feel up to being locked in a classroom with the object of his fantasies, not even if Mr Freckles-and-Red-Hair was there, too. As he pondered about the best course of action, he listened to what the boys were saying. It sounded as if they were quarrelling, which was rare for those two, and that piqued his interest:

"Ron, what's your problem? It's not such a big deal…"

"Not such a big deal?!?" it was clear the red-head was enraged. _Why?_ Wondered Severus. "Harry, it _is_ a big deal! He's a Slytherin, for fuck's sake!"

A Slytherin? Why were they quarrelling about someone from his own house?

"Ron, grow up! Yeah, he's a Slytherin, and I'm a Gryffindor. So what? I like him, and sometimes I think he likes me too…"

Could that mean what Severus thought it did? Could it mean… could Harry actually be attracted to a Slytherin? '_he_'s a Slytherin', he had said. Did that mean Harry was gay, as well? Severus didn't dare breathe, afraid as he was of being discovered and missing the end of the precious conversation.

"Harry, that git does _not_ like _anyone_, least of all you! Don't you see how he's always treating you like shit? He hates you, that's for sure, he has since day one, how can you not see it?"

Severus's brains were working at light-speed. Could it be? Dare he hope? No, of course not. It didn't mean anything. Surely they were talking about someone else. Still, a small voice in the back of his head was nagging at him, telling him that there weren't that many people who fit Weasley's description, and even less to whom people referred to as 'git'. 

"Ron, you don't understand! You don't know how he looks at me… like… like he can see inside me, as if he knew what I was thinking… He doesn't hate me, he _wants_ me."

Surely he'd have noticed if one of his own students were watching Potter like that, wouldn't he?

"You think? And when exactly does he look at you like that?"

"All the time, how can you not see it?"

"Give me an example!"

"Potions class!"

Severus started feeling dizzy. Potions class? The small voice in the back of his head was getting more and more insistent. He was about to flee, afraid of being found out, when…

"Harry, c'mon, _are you mad_? He's a filthy Death Eater, that's what he is!"

"Stop it Ron! Just because he's a Slytherin pureblood, and he's got the Mark, doesn't mean he ever really was one of them!"

And with that Severus did flee, almost running to the Great Hall, too many thoughts spinning in his head to contemplate them one at a time.

Was Harry talking about him? Could it really be? The rational part of his mind was screaming at him not to get his illusions up, but it was quickly being suffocated by the rest of him, which wanted to believe that, just for once, things could go well for him.

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Almost a week had passed since he's eavesdropped the two boys' discussion. After he'd calmed down a bit, with the help of an excellent bottle of scotch and almost twelve hours straight of sleep, Morgana bless week-ends, Snape had been able to look at things from a more realistic perspective. Obviously Harry hadn't been talking about him. It just was ridiculous that such a young and charming boy could feel anything but loathing for his old Potions teacher, especially for a teacher who'd never spared a kind word for him, instead putting all himself into making his student's life hell for seven years. 

Besides, it was almost a law of Nature: Severus Snape's dreams did _not_ come true. And when they did, they did it in such a way that he found himself wishing they hadn't.

The discussion was closed. Period. Full-stop. _'Stop thinking about it, bury your stupid hopes and pray no one ever learns of how foolish you were to even wonder about it'_. Harry Potter did not and would never harbour any kind of positive feelings towards Severus Snape. End of question. He'd been a fool for even considering it an option.

That's what he was thinking as he drew red slashes across the fifth year Hufflepuffs' tests, so that they resembled battlefields more than essays about the properties of digitalis. He put his quill down when he heard someone knocking at his office door. It was probably one of his Slytherins, even though it was a bit strange for them too seek counsel that late in the evening, especially since they knew well how irritable their Head of House could be when tired.

"Enter" he called, and he looked at the door opening. A short, slim boy in a Gryffindor uniform stepped inside Snape's office, jumping slightly as the door slid shut behind him.

"Good evening Professor."

"Potter." it had never been so difficult for Snape to control his voice. "What brings you here?" 

The boy was clearly surprised at the lack of bite in his voice, but Severus was far too busy asking himself what Harry could want from him of all people to notice.

"Er… I- I still have one of your books, and the Headmaster asked me to give it back to you. Said he doesn't have the time to bring it to you."

_'Well, what did you expect? A burning declaration of love? Get a grip on yourself, man, you're acting like a fool.'_

"Well, give it here and hurry off. You don't want to be out after curfew, do you Potter?" he just couldn't bring himself to be harsh with the boy tonight. What harm could come to him if he just treated him like a human being for once, when no one could see? 

"No, Sir. Here it is…" he walked quickly to Snape's desk and handed him an ancient and incredibly precious book on Legilimency and Mind-magic. Severus's eyes widened imperceptibly as he noticed how the boy hadn't just put the book onto the desk, but rather was giving it to him directly. Their fingers brushed as Harry passed him the tome, and Severus couldn't help but drawing a sharp breath at the contact. He looked up carefully, but it seemed as though the boy hadn't noticed. _'Well, thanks for that, at least'_. He gazed at the boy, unsure about why he hadn't left yet, since his task was done. 

"Well?"

Had Harry's cheeks gone a bit pink, or was it just Severus's imagination?

"Uhm… Sir… I don't really know how to say this, but since the term is almost over and I'm not coming back next year… well, I wanted to say I'm, uhm, kind of sorry, I guess." the Potions master's bewilderment must have shown, because Harry went on quickly, even if he was clearly very embarrassed. "You know… about the way I never really trusted you, even though I knew Dumbledore did, and that you were on our side."

The Gryffindor looked at his teacher as if waiting for some sort of answer, but Severus was silent, not really knowing what was expected of him.

"Uhm… well. I guess that's it. Sorry for taking your time, Sir. Good evening."

And with that Harry turned around, opened the door and stepped outside into the dungeons corridor. Just a moment, and he was gone, and Severus could do nothing but stare after him, speechless and with his mind in a daze. What had just happened? Had his Harry really apologized for not trusting in him? Maybe… maybe his suppositions hadn't been all that unfounded, then. He didn't know whether to feel glad he could hope once again, or angry that he'd lost his hardly conquered peace. He didn't know a lot of things, lately, especially where Harry was concerned. It unnerved him somehow.

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The last Sunday of school wasn't a real Hogsmeade weekend, but the Headmaster had decided that all seventh years would be allowed to visit the village as a special farewell treat. _'How charitable and munificent of him. He's not the one having to supervise the brats all day.'_ No, in fact Snape was. Fortunately for him, the 'young adults', as Albus liked to call them, didn't need that much in the way of supervision, and so Severus could dedicate himself almost entirely to his own shopping, spending the day in the local apothecary, hunting for new reading material and restocking his ingredients supplies. 

When he finally emerged from the badly illuminated shop, he was still half an hour early to meet the students, and after shrinking the shrinkable and putting the rest into two large bags, he slowly made his way towards the Three Broomsticks, where he was supposed to meet the pests. He was lost in thought, reflecting about what had happened with Harry in his office, and about what that could mean, when a shrill voice got his attention, and he turned his head slightly to look in distaste at a middle-aged woman, who was the source of the intolerable noise as she spoke excitedly to a friend.

"Really, dear, she was saying, "don't you see it? He'll never take the first step. He's afraid, it's plain to see… he doesn't know how you'd react! Your only chance is to take charge and do something! You'll never get him if you just keep waiting…"

Finally the two women were far away enough down the street that Severus couldn't hear the piercing voice anymore, but he didn't seem to care as he reflected about the words he'd accidentally overheard. _He'll never take the first step… Your only chance is to take charge… You'll never get him if you just keep waiting._ Was it true? And, more to the point, was it true about him and Harry? Could he really have a chance? Was Harry waiting for him to do something? Maybe, he told himself, Harry hadn't done anything more than his 'apology' because he wasn't sure of how Snape could react… He was so deeply immersed in his meditations that he didn't notice the two young women walking straight towards him until he felt a body slamming into his, making him lose his grip on the bags and almost causing him to fall on his back onto the ground. Luckily for whom had walked into him, he managed to keep his balance and to even catch both bags before the contents could scatter on the muddy ground, ruining the expensive ingredients and books they contained. He fixed a glacial scowl onto the lower being which was the cause of his almost-fall, and was contented to see the young woman cower and stutter her apologies in a terrified tone of voice. Not in the least moved by her behaviour, he simply lifted a corner of his mouth in a sneer as he calmly watched her scramble in the mud, trying to pick up her handbag and her other belongings. When she finally rose from the ground, covered in dirt and blushing in shame, he stared down at her and her friend, who looked as intimidated by him, for a good minute, then he slowly drawled:

"Miss Diggle. What an unpleasant surprise. I see you still have problems paying attention to the task at hand. Even if you're simply walking, it would seem." That said, he stalked away, not sparing another glance for his two frightened ex-students. Merlin, there were some positive sides to being the feared Potions teacher at the main British school of witchcraft and wizardry, after all. For example, more than half the British wizarding population under thirty held for him the same terror they usually reserved for Dementors and such monstrous creatures. He smiled a disturbing smile as he thought of all those people who, talking behind his back, claimed he got his kicks out of striking the fear of Severus Snape into those around him. They'd never know how right they were. 

As he walked away, though, he heard Calla Diggle whispering to her friend:

"With an attitude like that, it's no wonder that nobody loves him!"

And that struck a chord inside him, deep. Damn that Hufflepuff. Now he couldn't help but wonder if Harry could really want him after the way he'd treated him for all those years. 

Just ten minutes and then he could take the whelps back to Hogwarts. Good. Or bad, if one considered that with all that had happened since he'd left the apothecary he wasn't sure he could bear looking at Potter for the whole time it took all of them to walk back to the castle. He was just thinking of going to the meeting place and waiting there, when something caught his eyes from a shop-window. It was an amulet, a beautiful amulet. Two snakes, one green with silver eyes and one silver with green eyes, biting each other's tails, and inside the circle they formed was a golden lion with a deep red mane. The symbolism in it was pretty obvious, but it still pulled to Severus in a way he couldn't quite explain. It felt somewhat right, and after what he'd overheard that woman in the street saying, he decided it was, indeed, time to take matters into his own hands. He would give that amulet to Harry, and then… well, then he'd see what would happen. He didn't much like starting something he didn't know the consequences of, but he couldn't find a better plan. Actually, he couldn't find any plans at all, so that would have to do. After all, he was now positive Harry felt something for him, and what could go wrong if at least some of his feelings were reciprocated?

It was a determined Severus Snape who strode towards the castle at the head of his students, now and then slipping a hand into his pocket to make sure the small silver parcel containing the amulet was still there.

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_'If I'm lucky it'll stay clean for at least a couple of hours… that should be enough'_ thought the Potions master as he gave the final brush to his now shining black hair. He'd long given up trying to make it look clean, or even just presentable, on a regular basis. It simply was not something he could do: with all the times a day the potions fumes forced him to wash his hair, it was so dry and damaged that it got oily just a few hours after a shampoo. He still wanted it to look decent for this evening, though. He'd decided, he was going to give the amulet to Harry just after the feast, and to let him know of his feelings. He didn't know what Harry's reaction would be, but after what he'd overheard and the way Harry had acted in his office, he was sure the Gryffindor felt for him. It was almost too good to be true.

He looked at his clock. It read '_Almost late'_. Taking a deep breath, he finished fastening his left sleeve, donned his over-robe, and left his apartments.

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Entering the Great Hall, he headed for the Teachers' Table, and as he walked by Harry, sitting with his friends at the Gryffindor Table, he heard Granger saying:

"So you'll tell him this evening, won't you?"

"It's my last chance. If I don't do it now, I'll probably never see him again, and I couldn't forgive myself if…" Severus wasn't able to hear all of Harry's answer, but what he'd heard was enough. His thoughts were spinning so fast, his heart was beating so loud in his ears, that he almost missed Minerva's greeting as he  took his place at the High Table beside the deputy Headmistress. That earned him a funny look, but his colleague did not comment, as used to his quirks as she was.

Dinner went by in a daze for Severus Snape, afraid as he was that someone would catch him staring at Harry. Why was he so nervous? After all, Harry already pretty much knew he was interested in him, and from what he'd heard the boy saying, they'd put their feelings for each other in the open before the students left in the morning. Then again, Harry was probably as twitchy as he was, since he had looked at the Teachers' Table only a couple of times in the whole time, instead spending his dinner looking apprehensively at the Slytherin Table, as if something there worried him.

Finally the feast was over. Many students and teachers lingered in the Great Hall, especially the seventh years wanting to bid their goodbyes to their favourite professors. Fortunately, he was no one's favourite, so nobody really noticed him slipping out of the Hall as soon as he caught a glimpse of Harry leaving.

From the teachers' exit, he walked quickly towards the corridor he'd seen the Gryffindor running into before the Great Hall's doors slid shut behind him. After what seemed like hours he reached the intersection with that corridor, and in the dim light of a torch he could make out his Harry, leaning against the wall and looking as if he was waiting. _'He's so beautiful… I believe I do really love him, after all…' _was Severus's thought as he approached him.

"Harry." He called out in a soft voice, when he was near enough. His voice had been so low that he was almost afraid the boy hadn't heard him, but then Harry's face lightened up and he smiled.

"You're here! I've been waiting!" those simple words warmed his heart, filling him with so much love that he thought he'd never felt anything in his life before that moment. 

He took a step towards Harry, and he was almost entering the small circle of light the torch provided when Harry moved. He looked, mesmerized, as Harry took a step, then two, and then started running with his arms wide open. Except he wasn't running towards him. No, he was running up the students' corridor, the one from which the Gryffindor had come. Not understanding, Severus silently moved to that corridor, careful not to leave the shadows and to stay hidden.

Ah, there was Harry. His Harry, happy as he'd never seen him. Happy as he'd hoped he could make him. Happy as he kissed Draco Malfoy as if there was no tomorrow, while the silver-haired boy kissed back with a passion he hadn't thought any Malfoy capable of.

"Draco… I wasn't sure you'd come."

""How could I not, you kept staring at me all evening!"

"Oh, you noticed." It was painful to see his Harry blushing so prettily for someone else. But then again, Harry wasn't his, was he? He'd never been, and would never be.

"I'm surprised _Crabbe_ didn't notice! Pansy thought you were hexing me." smirked the blond.

"Oi! I wasn't that transparent!"

Feeling sick to his stomach, Severus left, unable to look on as the two boys gently joked among themselves, arms wrapped around each other. He didn't even notice the soft clink of a small silver package falling onto the stone floor.

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He reached the dungeons as quickly as possible, and by the time he was safely ensconced in his quarters he didn't feel so much pain in his heart anymore. In fact, he didn't feel any. He felt nothing. He was totally empty, no feelings, no emotions, not a hint of passion or caring were there to obscure his judgement. He felt more lucid than he'd ever been, but that left him indifferent. He didn't fumble hastily with the scales, nor did he hesitate in chopping the ingredients before methodically adding them to the simmering cauldron, and he easily fell into the regular rhythm that stirring the potion required. 

Five hours went by before the liquid turned the right shade of green. He felt a pang of something as he thought of eyes which held that very same nuance, but it was just a matter of seconds, and then he fell back to feeling nothing at all. The potion had to cool for another few hours before it could be used, but he wasn't in a hurry. Time was hardly an issue now. Nothing was.

He ate a couple of scones, slowly sipped his tea, and went to sleep, spelling his wand to wake him up in three hours, when the potion would be ready.

For the first time in years he woke slowly, without starting at the noise his wand was making to rouse him. He unspelled the wand, took a brief shower, dressed in his everyday robes and went into his workroom. 

He carefully bottled the jewel-green potion and labelled each vial with painstaking attention. When at last all vials but one were meticulously ordered on a shelf, next to his stocks of arsenic and laudanum, he lifted the last one to his lips and swallowed his contents in one gulp. Starting to feel slightly dizzy, he went to sit in front of the fire, waiting for the potion to have full effect.

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They didn't find him until almost two weeks later, and even then it was just because Filch started complaining about the smell. The moist air of the dungeons hadn't helped any in the preservation of his body, and when the Headmaster finally managed to break though the apartment's wards he found himself facing a rotting corpse which had already gone green and whose flesh was crumbling in decay.

The funeral was held the day after, the few living relatives hadn't been available for a wake. It was a bright June morning, cloudless and warm as it could be, and just a few people followed the light pine coffin the Headmaster had chosen, which was already closed due to the state of corruption the body inside it was in. 

Severus Sulpicius Snape, 1955/1998, was buried at the edge of the Forbidden Forest: not even wizards would let a suicide soil the holy ground of a cemetery, and the absence of a suicide-note proved nothing, while the empty vial of poison in the dead man's hand did. The oration was brief and formal, no one was too sure on what to say about a man none of them had really known. The attendants were mostly ex-fellow teachers, to whom the Headmaster had asked to participate, and the only exceptions were the school nurse, the caretaker, the gamekeeper, and a lawyer from the Ministry of Magic, all quick answers and brisk moves, charged with the task of sorting through the late Severus Snape's possessions and looking for a possible will.

Once the ritual was taken care of, everybody headed back to the castle, most already moving on and with their thoughts turned towards the day's activities, just two people still thinking about the strange man who now lay under the shade of the Forest.

"Albus… have you any idea of why he did it?"

"No, Minerva. He told me nothing, he seemed all right, he never changed."

The two continued walking towards the school, an uncomfortable silence between them. At last a tall woman with short spiky hair and red cheeks walked up to them and put an arm around the deputy Headmistress's shoulders.

"Come on, Minerva… it's not like you can do anything about it now."

"I just… I just wish I could know why… if we failed him somehow…"

Hooch tried to suppress her laughter, but couldn't help a snort.

"Failed him? It was his bloody fault he never talked to nobody, it was. Hey, maybe it was a love thing. Some fetching young thing broke his heart and he offed himself!"

That earned her a stern glare from the Headmaster and an outraged cry from the deputy Headmistress:

"Stop that, Heather, it's not funny!"

"Ok, ok, no need to get your knickers in a twist! Just don't mourn too much, or you'll miss Potter's wedding this afternoon!" and she was gone, not in the least repentant about her words.

In just a few minutes everybody was inside, and near the new grave were just the mocking sun, the breeze, and the faint echo of Hooch's joke.

No, it really wasn't funny.

The End

So? What do you all think? Was it good? Did it suck? You don't know because you fell asleep halfway through? Just tell me!! I'm a sucker for reviews, if you haven't noticed. Positive, negative… just as long as it helps me improve.


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